At Thangorodrim
by Finlass
Summary: The title says it: Maedhros at Thangorodrim.


Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.R.R.Tolkien. I would never claim it's mine. The poem is from "LotR- The Return of the King".  
  
OK, I must admit it's my first english story. But I'll try my best and I'm sorry for all the grammar mistakes etc. And it's my first Sil story, so...  
  
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Black clouds covered the sky.  
  
"Black." Maedhros thought "Black like my heart."  
  
His life consisted of darkness. The darkness of memories and the darkness of pain. He could escape from his pain in his dreams, though only for a short time, but he couldn't flee from his memories. They haunted him, awake or asleep, it was no difference.  
  
The fire. the fire of the gems, the fire burning in his fathers soul, the fire in the Haven of the Swans, fire burning the ships, flames killing his father. How he wished for fire. for warmth, it was winter and the wind was almost colder than the icy winter in Araman.  
  
How he prayed for death.  
  
"I'm a coward, a damned coward! I could flee, I could die. but I'm not brave enough. What do I fear? The darkness? There's no escape from the darkness since there is no escape from this mountain. I'll die one day. one way or another. Or won't I? Morgoth won't allow me to die. I'm a toy, a doll he can torture for his amusement. No. he won't let me die."  
  
Sometimes he thought he was about to starve. He thought it would be over, he hoped it would be over but then dark one came and forced water and food into the Elf while laughing all the time.  
  
"Well, it must be great pleasure to see me suffering. I'm glad that there is at least one person who enjoys all this."  
  
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Thuringwethil looked up to the precipice where the Elf hung.  
  
"Pitiful thing." She thought "But nothing more than a mere Elf."  
  
Thuringwethil sighed, shrugged and went up to the Elf. He didn't seem to recognize her, in fact he didn't seem alive at all. The woman laughed. It sounded like the croak of a crow.  
  
"Feeding!" she trilled.  
  
At first there was no reaction. Thuringwethil repeated the sentence once, twice. At the third time the Elf slowly raised his head.  
  
"Forget it!" Maedhros spat. His dark eyes were filled with pure hatred.  
  
"Oh no, little one. My master will kill me if I don't accomplish my task."  
  
"So much the better."  
  
"Don't be cheeky!"  
  
"Get lost!" Maedhros glared at her.  
  
Thuringwethil laughed "I think I like you."  
  
"Then clear off!"  
  
"It told you I can't. Now be a good boy and eat this!" Thuringwethil pulled a bottle filled with some strange kind of mash out of a bag that hung over her shoulder.  
  
Maedhros shook his head (as far as this was possible): "And I told you that I won't eat anything, bat woman! Anyway, what about your fine master? Why isn't he coming himself?"  
  
"He's occupied with more important things."  
  
".And so he sends one of his foul servants."  
  
"That's not nice, little one." She chuckled.  
  
"I know."  
  
"I know you know! Now eat that voluntarily or I will force you to do so!" Her voice was getting earnest.  
  
"No!" Maedhros' voice now sounded like an awkward child.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I am."  
  
"All right, as you want." Thuringwethil seized the Elf's hair and pulled his head backwards. Then she took the bottle and forced the Elf to swallow the mash. After that she did the same with a bottle of water. "You see, I *can* be cruel if I want to."  
  
"That's what you call cruel?" Maedhros snapped and realized immediately that he shouldn't have said this.  
  
Thuringwethil chuckled once again but this time one could hear malice in her voice. "Oh, you're not content with your treatment? Well, we could change that."  
  
Her claws went down and left scratches in the Elf's face.  
  
"Cuts suit you. Perhaps."  
  
She was interrupted by the mighty sound of trumpets. Quickly, scared of the sudden noise, the woman hid behind a rock.  
  
Maedhros turned his head to the direction where the sounds came from. A faint glimmer of hope was in his eyes. He knew those trumpets. Fingolfin!  
  
What was Fingolfin doing here? He and his people were left behind in Araman. They should be safe in Valinor, they should not be here! It could only be an illusion. On the other hand, was the bat's reaction not proving that at least *somebody* was here? Somebody who could release him.?  
  
And so cried as loud as he could. He cried for Fingolfin and his host, he begged for help, he prayed for release. He cried for a long time, until his voice was hoarse and too low to be heard.  
  
The sound of the trumpets became silent.  
  
Then there was nothing, no noise, only the soft whisper of the wind.  
  
For a short time he felt nothing, his heart was buried in deep despair.  
  
"They have gone. They went away and left me behind to suffer. Yes, this is what I deserve. What I deserve for the treachery, for the crime I have committed. Of course, I could claim that I didn't want to leave them behind and I begged my father not to burn the ships but in fact I did not do anything to stop my father. So I am as guilty as all the other followers of my father are."  
  
He would almost have cried but then he heard Thuringwethil laughing. The woman had just reappeared and was now looking directly into his eyes. One part of Maedhros wanted to look away, for what he saw in her eyes was really horrifying, his other part, however, didn't want to give up. So he stared at the woman for a long time like she stared at him. Sometime Thuringwethils claws grabbed the Elf's throat and the spell was broken.  
  
"I really like you, Elf. Now let us continue with what we have done before those nasty trumpets have disturbed us. Well, you were once called Maitimo, ,the well-shaped One' weren't you? I don't think it still fits, does it? It's time to give you a new name. What about 'the Ugly' or 'the Desperate' or 'the Hopeless'?"  
  
Maedhros gave no reply.  
  
"It seems you're very creative in giving names, bat!" a deep voice answered in place of him.  
  
"Morgoth!"  
  
Thuringwethil shrank back, went down to the ground again and bowed. "I'm sorry Master! I didn't hear you arriving."  
  
Maedhros closed his eyes. He didn't want to see his tormentor, the one who had caused all this.  
  
"And what about you, son of Fëanor?" Morgoth moved closer to Maedhros "You don't seem satisfied with your situation. What do you want? More food?"  
  
Maedhros shook his head. He felt sick. If it was the mash or the presence of the dark lord he could not tell.  
  
"What do you wish, then?" Morgoth asked mockingly.  
  
"To die." Maedhros wanted to say but he stayed silent.  
  
"Well." Morgoth stretched his dark hand out and touched the Elf's right arm. Maedhros froze. He felt his body trembling slightly and wondered why.  
  
"He can't do much worse things to me, can he? So why am I fearing his touch?"  
  
"Howsoever, you seem to have very nice relatives, your brothers as well as your uncle and his family. None of them is going to help you, are they? How do you feel, left alone to suffer?"  
  
Again, Maedhros didn't answer. Morgoth laughed.  
  
"I suppose you aren't interested in any conservation right now. We will talk later. Meanwhile enjoy yourself!"  
  
With these words the dark lord left, followed by Thuringwethil.  
  
"Finally I'm alone again."  
  
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In western lands beneath the Sun  
  
the flowers may rise in Spring,  
  
the trees may bud, the waters run,  
  
the merry finches sing.  
  
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night  
  
and swaying beeches bear  
  
the Elven-stars as jewels white  
  
amid their branching hair.  
  
Though here at journey's end I lie  
  
in darkness buried deep,  
  
beyond all towers strong and high,  
  
beyond all mountains steep,  
  
above all shadows rides the sun  
  
and stars for ever dwell:  
  
I will not say the Day is done,  
  
nor bid the stars farewell.  
  
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"I wonder what he is dreaming about."  
  
Fingon gently stroke his cousin's hair. The latter had lost consciousness and now seemed to dream. Sometimes he whispered a few words and though Fingon could only guess what they meant he knew that his cousin dreamt of his captivity.  
  
"Ai my friend, what has the dark one done to you?"  
  
Fingon sighed sadly. Whatever Maedhros had experienced during years of captivity, he would never be free of it.  
  
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The End  
  
Well, I do not know much about Thuringwethil so some things can be wrong ^_^. Sorry for that. 


End file.
